The question that stayed
Abandoned hopes of my childhood,
Creep through my soul each day.
What am I to others?
One question haunting me every way.
Will I ever climb the tree of glory,
and make myself proud.
This isn’t what I dreamt of,
Why wasn’t I informed?
Once I reach the tree,
I wonder how the grass will seem.
The height won’t make me tremble,
Nor the blues disturb my dream.
I hope the sky shines bright,
The birds sing for me.
I just wish they never mind,
My quiet company.
-Swara
-
Author:
mirrorball (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 13th, 2025 10:30
- Comment from author about the poem: Simple poem i guess.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: Soman Ragavan
Offline)
Comments2
Thoughts that pass through many of our minds. We all wish to climb the tree of glory but few of us do and we find ourselves falling in despair of old age to feeble to try again. A sad tone to this poem so well written
thankyou!!
You are most welcome
When feeling abandoned, poets take refuge in nature sometimes. Society will do, but often nobody seems to care...
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